


Afraid of the Dark

by succubusybody



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Against Her Will, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Blood Drinking, Character Death, Character Turned Into Vampire, Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Marriage, Horror, Human Rey, It's a vampire story what do u expect from me, Kylo Ren is EVIL, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, POV Third Person Limited, Sire Bond, Vampire Kylo Ren, does this count as character death? im not sure, for now anyway lol, in fact, just in case
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-05 03:19:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16359722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/succubusybody/pseuds/succubusybody
Summary: Rey Niima is a horror critic looking for her big break. When Ben Solo, proprietor of the Transylvanian castle said to have inspired European vampire lore, invites her to tour the property, how can she say no? No one's been allowed on the premises for as long as anyone can remember, and this article could put her on the map.But there's always a kernel of truth in legends, isn't there?





	1. I don't wanna be your fuckin' dog

**Author's Note:**

> happy halloween, anon!!!

She’s never seen a castle before, she realizes as the trees clear. The car prattles down a tiny, treacherous road, but at least she made it. Rey’d had one hell of a time finding a cab in the nearest town willing her to take her to the address.

At the time it had seemed weird, but now that she’s nearly there, she realizes it must have been because their cars weren’t equipped for these hills. That and it had been a long drive. More work in town, probably.

The crumbling battlements come into view first, looming over the crest of the next hill. Rey fights the urge to ask the driver to speed up, instead leaning forward, well into the front seat, to peer over his shoulder. Her jaw drops as it comes into view: dark and foreboding, it looks exactly like it did in the pictures. Hard to imagine, really, that anyone lives here, but then, if it’d been passed down in her family for years, she can’t imagine willingly giving it up to anyone.

She chews her lower lip and sits back, tapping absentmindedly against her thigh. She’s excited and nervous in equal parts - no one has ever been invited to the castle, and certainly not a horror critic.

This is where the legend of the vampire was born, she thinks. She’s in the middle of Romania, and the castle is even bigger than she’d thought, and it all feels unreal.

The car slows to a stop just outside a large, well-rusted pair of gates. “This is as far as I’ll go,” he says, turning to face her with a solemn look on his face. She guesses that makes sense… any further might have been considered trespassing? Rey pays him, making sure to leave a nice tip before pulling her bags from the trunk.

The driver executes a hasty three-point turn and peels off down the road. She tips her head back, staring up at the towering gates for a moment before pushing them open. They’re heavy, and they move with a deafening groan.

Must be the original gate. Cool.

Everything is eerily quiet as she walks toward the front door. No birds are singing, which strikes her as odd - but the sun is setting behind the castle, and she can’t remember when birds actually stop singing, so maybe that’s normal. She just knows she misses it more than she’d expected to.

Rey stands in front of the large, ornate wooden door and takes a deep breath. This is definitely going to be the coolest thing she’s ever done, and if it goes well, it’s gonna propel her career like nothing else.

Halfway through her second knock, the door opens.

The email had been from a Ben Solo, so she’s a bit surprised to be a tall blonde woman answering the door. Her eyes flicker up and down, and Rey gets the skin-prickling feeling of being _judged_ before the woman steps aside to let her in. “Welcome, Miss Niima. My name is Phasma. Mr. Solo regrets not being able to greet you himself, but he couldn’t miss this meeting.”

Stepping inside, she looks around the castle with a sense of wonder. It’s maintained well enough, but it still has a dark, authentic feel to it. “And your his…?” She glances back to Phasma, wondering who the hell still has butlers in the 21st century.

“Personal assistant.” Good thing she didn’t guess butler, or she probably would have been even more cold and dismissive. Without so much as another word - and she’d at least expected the normal, polite stuff, like asking about the journey - Phasma turns off and starts walking back into the castle. “Just leave your bags there,” she calls, not bothering to turn enough to toss the words over her shoulder.

Not wanting to be left behind, and certain she’d get lost if she was, Rey drops her suitcase and takes off. The walls are draped in tapestries and oil paintings, and they pass a suit of armor on display.

There’s no _way_ he actually lives like this, she thinks. He must have another house somewhere. One that he spends most of his time in.

After winding through endless hallways, Phasma stops abruptly, extending an arm to usher her into a room just off the side. Rey peers through the archway to see a dining room - no, a dining _hall_ , complete with fire roaring in the fireplace. The table is set with way too much food for one person. Her stomach growls.

“He’ll join you upon his return.” Rey politely walks past, looking around the room with admiration. The place practically oozes history. She turns to ask Phasma when she thinks that will be, but she’s already gone.

Weird, but whatever. She was kind of rude anyway.

She moves to the table. Turkey, all kinds of vegetables, rice and potatoes and bread. Shit. Too hungry to wait for Ben Solo, she makes a plate and takes a seat. After a few bites, she figures that she ought to text Rose that she made it safely, but she finds that she doesn’t get any reception.

Which is weird. He must use wifi. She makes a note to ask for the password when she meets him and gets back to eating.

“I hope everything was to your liking.”

She jumps at the sound of a deep, gravelly voice, nearly dropping her fork from the surprise. He laughs, and Rey turns to see him standing in the archway, hands tucked neatly in his pockets: wavy dark hair, warm brown eyes, a hint of stubble. He’s dressed like she’d imagine a CEO at a tech startup, from his dress shirt tucked into his jeans to his leather desert boots… not like she’d imagine the proprietor of one of the creepiest castles in the world.

But whatever. Now she’s being the judgmental one. She stands to shake his hand. “Everything was fantastic. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Solo.” He smiles, and his handshake is firm. His hands are cold as shit.

“Please, call me Ben. If you’re through eating, I’m sure you must be tired from your trip… I’ll show you to your room?”

She’d really hoped to see more of the castle, but he’s right: she’s jetlagged as fuck and only just now realizing it. “I’d appreciate that.”

They wind through more ancient halls. Occasionally, Ben stops to point out something of interest - the library with the huge original collection of the man who’d built the castle, the armory that’d been carefully preserved. She’s about as excited as she is tired, mind already teeming with questions. They stop at what’s her room for the next few nights, her suitcase placed neatly by the foot of the bed. “Here you are.”

Everything in the room is expertly curated. If he ever gets tired of maintaining the place, he could always turn it into a themed hotel. There’s no way that the furniture is as old as the castle, but somehow… it fits. “It’s fantastic.” Someone could shoot a movie in this place. Rumor has it that many have tried, but Ben Solo hasn’t allowed anyone outside the family on the premises. Til now, anyway.

“Glad to hear it.” He stands there for a moment, and she isn’t sure what else to say, so she rocks back onto her heels. They just look at one another. She’s got no idea what he’s thinking.

“Well,” she says finally, breaking the silence the only way she knows how. “Goodnight.”

He seems to get that, thankfully enough, and nods. “Right, right. I’ll leave you to it.” He turns and starts to leave, but doesn’t get far. “I have business to attend to tomorrow, but when I’m back that evening, I’ll be happy to show you anything you’d like. Answer any questions.” He pauses a beat. “Sleep well.”

He closes the door behind him. Rey goes to text Rose about how he’s not at all what she expected - but realizes she forgot to ask for the wifi password. 

With nothing else to do and jetlag pressing heavily on her consciousness, she changes into her pajamas and heads to bed.


	2. That you drag around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is so long lmao i love me some slow burn

She has weird dreams.

When she wakes up, she can barely remember them. They’re not the kind of thing she’d ever _tell_ anyone about; dreaming that your kind host is in your room watching you sleep is fucking weird, and a little too Twilight for her taste. Besides, they feel distant and blurry at best, and Rey has never been the sort to believe her dreams mean anything, anyway. It was probably something she ate.

It’s later than she would have hoped when she wakes up. She guesses it’s alright, though; Ben had said he would be out on business all day, so it’s not like she’s wasted any time. She gets dressed, makes the bed, and heads downstairs.

Phasma intercepts her in the hallway. “Mr. Solo would like you to join him for dinner tonight.” 

Rey swallows thickly and nods, wondering if she should be put off by the woman’s attitude. Is she being rude? Or is she just… abrupt? It can’t be personal, she reasons. They hardly know one another. “Alright. Thanks.”

“If you happen to get hungry before then, feel free to stop by the kitchen. The staff will be happy to prepare something for you.” The tall blonde turns on her heel and clicks off, presumably on important business, before Rey can thank her again.

She rolls her eyes at Phasma’s retreating back. Like she wouldn’t get hungry for the whole day?

It’s nearly three in the afternoon, so she wanders until she finds the kitchen - not surprisingly, it’s near the dining room she’d been in last night - to find that there’s already a tray of sandwiches and several bags of chips waiting for her. 

It feels weird to just grab the food and leave, so she sticks around for a bit, chatting with the kitchen crew while she eats her sandwich. Ben Solo pays well, apparently, and is putting quite a few of them through culinary school. No one had a single complaint, even though she tried to fish for one… nobody likes their boss that much. Except for these guys, she thinks.

Tossing goodbyes over her shoulder, she takes her bag of chips and wanders around the castle. She’s been promised a tour, but that’s hours from now, and she’s curious. Her first stop is the library that Ben had pointed out last night.

Old. Old and incredible. Those are the only two words that come to mind as she steps into the room. It reminds her of the library from Beauty and the Beast, only more… grey. Way more gray. 

She walks the perimeter of the room as slowly as she can, paying careful attention to the titles and authors on the spines of the books. There’s plenty she’s familiar with, which must have been added by newer generations - Ray Bradbury, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Steinbeck. There’s older titles, too: Tales of Canterbury, works by Lord Byron. And then there’s plenty she’s never heard of, looking so old that she’s worried they might disintegrate if she touches the spine.

It’s impressive. 

She wanders out, not heading anywhere in particular now. The castle is still decorated like she imagines it has been for centuries, and she walks aimlessly, admiring the swords and tapestries that hang on the walls. She’s pretty sure she sees a bearskin rug in one room.

It’s more than impressive - it’s absolutely fucking ridiculous. She loves it.

She comes to the end of a hallway and finds herself facing a closed door. Her head tilts ever so slightly as she studies it. All the doors she’s passed before now have been left open - and she looks back over her shoulder to make sure this is true before she reaches out for the handle.

Rey falters before she grasps the knob, teeth worrying her lower lip as she tries to decide if this is right. There’s always a chance that this door is closed for a reason, and she’s a guest here… no need to be nosy.

But no one told her _not_ to go. With a deep breath, she tries the handle and finds it unlocked.

If it was off limits, it definitely would have been locked. That’s the logic she goes with as she steps through the door, rustling for the last few chips in her bag.

It’s a spiral staircase, one that’s not been modified with electricity like the rest of the castle. It’s cold, drafty, and dark, and it heads straight down. The only source of light is a small window from some height above. This must be one of the towers. 

It’s a little creepy, but if that were enough to deter her, she wouldn’t be a horror critic. She takes the steps two at a time, descending what must be several floors until there are no more stairs to climb down, leaving her standing in front of a wrought iron gate. 

There’s even less light this far down, and she leans forward, peering between the bars and waiting for her eyes to adjust before giving up entirely, pulling out her phone and turning on the flashlight.

At first, she doesn’t know what she’s looking at. It’s a big, beautiful room, and unlike the rest of the castle, it looks as though it hasn’t been remodeled at all - the high arches crumble in places, built from stones expertly cobbled together that have worn away over the last several hundred years.

It isn’t until she sees the large marble statue of a man on a cross that she realizes she’s found what might be the castle’s original chapel.

The gate groans loudly as she pulls it open, and she winces, half expecting the chapel to shudder and collapse from the sound. But it doesn’t. Carefully, she turns sideways and starts to shimmy through the gate.

“Miss Niima!”

Phasma’s sharp voice makes her jump, and she backs out. She feels scolded as she leans over the rail of the spiral staircase, looking up only to see the woman’s stern face. Heat prickles in her cheeks, and she trudges her way up to meet her.

She expects to be fussed at, but the blonde just waits (impatiently as she can manage, it seems) for Rey to step back out into the hallway. 

“Sorry.” She rubs the back of her head, staring at Phasma’s heels. “I was just-”

“It’s not safe down there.” Rey wishes she didn’t feel so caught off guard by the snappy tone that’s used, but she looks away sheepishly. There’s a beat between them. “There’s structural issues.”

“Right.” 

Rey waits for Phasma to continue raking her over the coals, but looks up when she hears her shoes click-clacking away. She wonders what she _does_ all day that keeps her so… busy.

Or maybe she just doesn’t want to be around her. If that’s the case, she thinks, the feeling is mutual.

Not wanting to get yelled at again, she decides to spend the rest of the afternoon being considerably less nosy. She takes a nap (amazing how she can sleep the whole night and still feel exhausted), takes a shower, and eventually winds back up in the library.

Plucking an anthology of short stories off one of the shelves, she curls up in an armchair and reads. 

Many pages later, she tips her head back over the armrest, cracking her neck with a satisfied sigh. Sitting back up, she opens her eyes and jumps when she sees Ben Solo standing there, watching her. Jesus fucking Christ, she thinks. He might have the lightest step she’s ever heard.

“Have you ever thought about announcing yourself when you come into a room? Knocking, maybe?” She sets the book down and straightens up, crossing her legs. He smiles, but doesn’t move from the door. 

“It’s my house.”

Fair enough, she thinks, trying to hide a smile of her own. 

He’s handsome, in a different sort of way, she thinks. She wonders if he’s studying her face like she’s studying his, noticing the little things -

Of course not. They barely know each other. They’ve barely _spoken_. She’s being ridiculous.

“So,” he says, dragging her from her thoughts. “Dinner? And then I’ll give you the grand tour.”

Rey's smile widens.

“Sounds good to me.”


End file.
